Written by: Suki Jones

Photos by Suki Jones

I participated in my first Dry January twenty-four years ago and since then, l’ve never stopped participating.

To be fair, Dry January didn’t exist back in January 2000, but New Year’s resolutions (which are as old as “Auld Lang Syne”) have always been a thing. My New Years Day attempt, 24 years ago, was not my first. I can’t tell you the number of attempts I made, because I lost count. Each attempt was another link in a chain of failed attempts up until that day.

Respondents in a 2023 survey by the market research firm, Morning Consult, found that about 15 percent of U.S. adults said they would observe Dry January. In another study, by CGA Strategy, it is stated that, “Of those who intended to abstain from alcohol, an impressive 74% claim to have succeeded, versus the average 8-10% of consumers who stick to their New Year’s resolutions”.

The first time I heard the phrase “Dry January” I was curious about a few things: How might a month-long respite from alcohol benefit or derail drinkers and where did the term come from in the first place? Who is in charge of designating these types of monikers to months? I wonder who the committee is that comes up with catchy calendar phrases like “No-Shave November,” “Dry January,” and “Sober October” (or as I like to call it “Ocsober,” which is a massively missed opportunity for a portmanteau, if I ever saw one).

In my search to find the historical roots of Dry January, I learned that as early as 1942 the Finns had begun “Raitis Tammikuur,” which translates to – you guessed it: “Sober January.” The Finnish government, however, wasn’t so much concerned with their citizens’ drinking habits, as they were in aiding the war effort against the Soviet Union. However, this singular instance did not snowball into the alcohol-free, modern day event we know today. In 2013, the British charity organization “Alcohol Change UK,” whose aim is to reduce the harm caused by alcohol, kicked off what has now become an annual abstention for millions of people around the world.

Admittedly, the tradition tends to get panned here and there, and by that I mean that the internet is full of derisive memes and witty anecdotal stories about Dry January. As a former party girl, and someone who doesn’t particularly believe in resolutions, I understand the ribbing, and as a former party girl, and recovering alcoholic, I see the month as an opportunity for people who are struggling with alcohol use disorder (also known as alcoholism). The month provides an excuse to step away from a behavior that may negatively impact one’s life and do so in a socially acceptable way.

In other words, when someone offers you a drink you can say: “Nope, sorry I can’t; I’m doing Dry January”.

I make this point because it’s not uncommon for people in your social circle to become uncomfortable when you decide to stop drinking. Behavioral changes can shine a light not only on you, but also those around you. I would compare it to the Eye of Sauron, but don’t let that, or the “dis-ease” you may feel letting go of alcohol deter you.

According to the National Institute of Health, more than 14 million adults ages 18 and older have alcohol use disorder, and one in ten children live in a home with a parent who has a drinking problem. For the millions of Americans that fall into this category, a designated pause, like “Dry January” can be a pivotal move.

There are also people like me, who weren’t consistently heavy drinkers but still identify themselves as an alcoholic. It was my relationship with alcohol that was the problem, more so than the amount or frequency I drank.

When I was drinking I didn’t view myself as an alcoholic. I had grown up in a home with an alcoholic parent who drank sunup to sundown. I was not that kind of drinker. I could do drugs and not always drink. But, if I drank, drugs always ended up in the equation. I am an alcoholic because I can use anything alcoholically.

According to the National Institute of Health, the average number of attempts at sobriety from alcohol is five. These, however, are statistics, and it’s important to remember that people are more than numbers and collected data.

Whether you made it two days or twenty days, if you have decided you want to end your relationship with alcohol, not only is it possible, there are a myriad of ways to do it. Having a support system in place is a crucial part in easing the transition. Additionally, there are social media pages and podcasts, and there are in-person and online groups like AA, Dopey, SoberBuddy, SMART Recovery, and LifeRing. The aforementioned list all cater to a wide spectrum of people that are sober-curious and/or interested in abstinence-based recovery.

What I can tell you from experience is that if you want to examine your relationship with alcohol, try removing it from your life, and see what happens.

Sobriety, like most attempts at something new, is hard at first, but it also gets easier with practice.